Squeegee Tales
by Princess Pinky
Summary: Ashley meets an old acquaintance at the the gas station and learns why one should never wash their car windows with convenience store squeegees.


**A/N:** I was at work today changing the squeegee when inspiration hit! And just so everyone knows, this story is based off true life squeegee experiences.

_**Squeegee Tales**_

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Ashley Juergens stopped in her tracks, with the long black plastic handle of the squeegee held above the front window shield of her mother's minivan. She tilted her head, plastering her best apathetic look to her face as she turned towards the sound of the voice. "And why's that?"

Standing just three feet away, just outside of the shade provided by the gas pump awning, was a ridiculously handsome young man with flaxen blonde hair complete with shaggy bangs, wearing a shimmery blue gas station attendant's shirt beneath his trademark black leather jacket. His hands were tucked inside his pockets and he blew a puff of air out of his nostrils, rustling the bangs hanging over his forehead. "Don't you know what they put in those things?"

Ashley, still with her squeegee drawn in the air above the window like a sword ready to behead a traitor, failed to back down. "Enlighten me."

Thomas sauntered over to her, stopping at the front of the minivan. He leaned his arm onto the hood of the vehicle and surveyed the squeegee with a contemptuous glare. "Customers are animals," he explained with a scratchy growl. "They put the kind of things you wouldn't believe in there." He motioned his fingers in a mystical, hocus pocus gesture. "Take a sniff."

Ashley narrowed her eyes suspiciously, then lowered the squeegee to her face, with three inches between her nose and the sudsy trip of foam. She motioned her hand, using a technique called wafting which she had learned in her middle school science class. A faint smell of gasoline tickled her nostrils, which flared in response. "Gas," she noted aloud.

"You don't want that on your window shield," Thomas replied knowingly. "It'll cause streaks and make everything worse."

"Good to know."

"Besides, that water hasn't been changed since last night. It's probably got an inch of silt in there by now."

"Is that so?"

"Don't believe me?" The blonde strolled past her and effortlessly picked up the black rubber tub of squeegee water. He nodded his head. "Care for a stroll?"

Ashley, still clutching the squeegee stick in her left hand, shrugged off her shoulder. "I guess I don't have anything else to do."

Thomas had to crack a smile when he was sure her watchful eyes weren't paying attention. Despite her voice being as devoid of emotion as his was, he knew she was enjoying their ping pong banter. As they approached the glass doors that lead into the gas station, Ashley opened the door from him. "Thanks." Though he visibly ignored it, he couldn't help but catch the discreet exchange of looks as they passed a muscular young man who was squatting in the candy aisle. "Friend of yours?"

"What's it to you?"

He shrugged as he lead her into the back room, right up to the broom sink where he hefted the weighty bucket onto the edge of the basin and balanced it there with his hip. As he tipped the squeegee bucket, a rush of bubbles came out first, followed by gradually browning liquid until it turned a deep black, filling the entire sink. "I like to think of it as regurgitated sewage," he explained. As the dark water gurgled down the drain, it felt a thick ring around the sink. Then to prove his point, he tilted the bucket in Ashley's direction, revealing – as promised – a thick layer of gold flecked silt, as if it had come from the bottom of a dark sand beach.

A disturbed look crossed the brunette's face. "Is it always like that?"

"Pretty much," he answered as he turned on the hot water and began to swish out the bucket. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he grabbed a bottle of lemon scented Dawn and squirted a generous amount into the bucket before turning on the hot water again and flooding the bucket with bubbles.

"That's a bit of a let down if you ask me," Ashley replied, her voice exuding boredom.

"True," Thomas agreed. "I guess today was a slow day. Usually there's more interesting specimens in here: paper towels and dirt are the usual, sometimes candy wrappers and the little plastic straw liners on juice boxes too. Gum – but not the wrapped kind – too on occasion." He gauged his ex's expression from the corner of his eye and continued. "Though I have found screws in here before. Nuts and bolts. Brand new, too."

"Mhmm," she replied, unimpressed.

"And money, one time. A whole fifty cents in quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies between the two buckets." He set the rinsed out bucket on the ground beside his feet and slid on a pair of yellow rubber gloves, then swiftly extracted the squeegee wand from Ashley's hands. He poured a layer of dish soap onto the brush and began to squeeze it beneath the hot flow of water.

"Sounds like a kid was throwing mommy's spare change inside when she wasn't looking."

"Could be," Thomas agreed. "People seem to think these things are black holes."

"Maybe they are," Ashley agreed. "Maybe that's where the money came from? The other end of the black hole?"

"You read my mind!" Thomas smirked. He glanced down at the squeegee, almost successfully done squirting out the dirty silt water from the foam fibers and then gave it one last additional rinse. Finally, he squirted another dime sized glob of yellow liquid into the bucket and filled it with hot water, before dropping the squeegee inside. Balancing it against his chest, he lead Ashley back out through the store and up to her pump, where the muscular boy was now waiting.

Thomas took note of the boy staring, but ignored it as he picked up the squeegee and moved to the minivan, where he started to scrub the window shield. "Maybe that's where this came from?" he suggested, reaching into his pocket and retrieving something that was tucked within his hand.

"And what's this?" Ashley asked, holding out her hand. As the blonde dropped what he was holding into her palm, she looked a bit perplexed. "It's metal," she observed. Then rotated it between her fingers. "And has wires…" she glanced up. "Could be a bug," she replied conspiratorially.

"Government planted," Thomas agreed as he wiped away the excess water and moved around the van to the other side.

"Obviously. Illegal wire tapping."

Thomas nodded eagerly. "Because what a place to casually discuss terrorist activities than casually scrubbing one's car window."

"Sneaky," Ashley agreed. "Very sneaky." She curled her fingers around the odd shaped device, ignoring the fact that it had once been in the same grotesque water she had seen just minutes earlier. "I should hang onto this for you," she announced. "Maybe give it a look?"

"And call me with the details?"

"You read my mind."

A curt smile pierced her lips. "On second thought," she replied, "maybe this is a telepathic alien device?"

"If is it, then what am I thinking right now?"

Ashley narrowed her eyes, spotting her mother trudging towards the car with her baby brother, Robbie, on her hip, coming from the direction of the restroom. "That I'll call you with my findings at eight," she replied in a hush voice.

"Perfect." Thomas stepped back, pleased with his work as Anne approached the minivan. He caught her strange look and flashed a smile as he slipped by her and dropped the squeegee into the bucket on his way back towards the convenience store.

"Do you know him?" Anne asked, glancing at Ashley as she opened the door and began to secure Robbie into his car seat beside Griffin.

"Thomas," Ashley replied nonchalantly. She took her seat beside Griffin, who was giving her thirty kinds of questioning looks with his eyebrows alone. As soon as Anne had shut the door and began to climb into the driver's seat, he leaned over as she expected him to.

"Who was that?" he whispered, his voice a swirl of confusion and excited curiosity.

"His name's Thomas."

Griffin wriggled his eyebrows as Anne fired up the engine. "Thomas?" he squinted, then his eyebrows shot up. "Unexciting Thomas?"

"That's the one."

Griffin snorted. "You didn't seem all that unexcited to me."

"And you obviously don't know me very well."

"He's cute."

"I hadn't noticed."

"You're so into him." He nudged her playfully, but she merely crossed her arms. "So you're calling him at eight?"

"Eavesdropper."

"Can I listen in on speakerphone?"

"No."

"Great!" Griffin grinned, extracting his cell phone from his pocket. "I'll let my mom know we're having a sleepover!"

Ashley merely rolled her eyes as Griffin began to text his mother, but tucked between her fingers, she rotated the metallic disc Thomas had given her and allowed herself an inner smile. Clearly, there was so much more to squeegees than what initially met the eye.


End file.
